Manipulative Dumbledore
by Kvothe of Many Talents
Summary: With all the bad press our esteemed headmaster has been getting, I decided to act as his agent. Honestly people - canon Dumbles might be somewhat manipulative, but you've got to admit, that without his "manipulations" the war would have been lost before it even started.


Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore finished signing another stack of papers and heard someone stamping up the staircase to his office. A moment later, an angry sixteen year old Harry Potter stomped into the office. Albus felt a headache coming in, as it so often did when dealing with this particular student, and pasted the best patient and understanding smile on his face:

-Do come in, Harry. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?

-I finally realized it! You were manipulating me all this time, you old child molesting pervert!

Definitely a headache.

-I am sorry to see you view me that way. May I ask what brought this on?

-You dare ask me?! I don't even know where to start!

-I always find the beginning the best place for these kinds of things.

-Shut it, you old goat sniffer! - Replied Harry with a glare. - Let's start with the Dursleys. When we last talked in this office, you said you knew that you were condemning me to ten dark and difficult years. You knew they were going to mistreat me and probably condoned it to swoop in like some savior! Then first year, you were deliberately setting me up to go for the stone! What kind of a person sets traps, which a couple of first years can pass? Then there is the Mirror of Erised, which, I am sure you intentionally let me see! And second year – are you telling me that Hogwarts has no wards to detect dark magic and you didn't notice the diary? And how is it, that a second year girl could find the monster of Slytherin, when the whole faculty could not? Not to mention how you never found the entrance to the Chamber, despite being here for over half a century! And the whole school treated me like a dark wizard when a couple words from you could have stopped all the rumors! The third year – you were the chief warlock of Wizengamot! Why did you never give Sirius a trial? And why, after we told you of his innocence, did you not show our memories to the head of DMLE in a pensieve? Forth year – why didn't you just nullify the Tournament and resubmit the names or something? And last year – Occlumency lessons with Snape were a disaster! If you did more, if you told me the prophesy earlier, Sirius might still be alive! And I just found out – you were friends and probably lovers with Grindelwald!

The headache intensified with every sentence. If it was any other time, Albus might have persevered, he might have talked to Harry calmly and politely. But he has a crippling headache, mountains of paperwork, a curse slowly killing him starting from his hand and one insult too many.

-First, STOP THE FUCK SHOUTING! - He thundered, getting up from his table.

Harry, shocked by the outburst, sat and listened in silence.

-Let's start with Dursleys. Do you really think, I have nothing better to do than start conditioning a year old baby? I had death eaters to capture, families to protect and a job to do, and you were the last damn thing on my mind. I stopped you from going to Sirius Black, an assumed death eater, or your politically influential next of kin from your father's side – namely Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy. Add the benefit of blood wards and you better be damn grateful! As for the stone – you were already sticking your nose where it didn't belong. I thought giving you some information would give you an incentive to study harder and actually learn something for once! Instead, you started studying even less and doing stuff like Quidditch and wizarding chess. As for the mirror – you are blaming _me_?! You, a person breaking rules and snooping around after curfew, too weak-willed to break yourself from a mirror's curse, are blaming me? Figures. As for the traps – they weren't supposed to _stop _a thief, they were supposed to make him relax and trap him in a room with a cursed mirror and a stone he can't get, so that I might deal with him once and for all. Of course, I didn't account for you sticking your nose in _again _and getting the stone out for Tom.

Harry went red, stared at his shoes and tried mumbling something, but Albus was on a roll, expressing years' worth of feelings.

-I tried to be understanding, I tried to blame your upbringing or residual stupidity caused by meeting an Avada Kedavra head on as a baby, and even gave you enough points to make Severus even more angry with me. Then you show a flying car to muggles and crash it into the Whomping Willow. I am not even going to go into that, lest I be tempted to curse some gray matter into that thick scull of yours. Regarding the wards – believe it or not, there is no fixed list of what objects are considered dark and what aren't. As such, there are obviously no wards against them. As for the rumors – believe it or not, but I actually have better things to do than catering to your every wish. You are a bloody celebrity. Deal with it. As for miss Granger figuring out the basilisk...It was brought up during staff meetings. Minerva even noticed the whole reflections issue, but it was just extremely unlikely. One student can avoid death this way. Maybe two. But not a cat and _three _students! About the entrance to the Chamber...I won't mention the fact that I am not a Parseltongue and will only explain that I have grown out of that age, when I feel the need to enter a girls' bathroom. And I am doing my darn best not to mention robbing a teacher, brewing an illegal potion and drugging two minors, the combination of which would allow you to see the world through the bars of Azkaban for the next several years of your life. And once again – in face of lethal danger from a monster and an heir, you were one of the last in _all _ of your classes and didn't learn anything more dangerous than a disarming hex. You still wonder why I didn't tell you the prophecy?

Harry was now a very interesting color of Weasley hair. Albus might have felt a bit of pity for the young man, but he had to open his big mouth:

-Well, what about Sirius?

-Get your facts straight before accusing me! I was not the Chief Warlock at the time. And as for showing your memories in a pensieve – they don't count as evidence. I thought I already showed you that memories can be faked, obliviated or modified. And even if they were acceptable, I was far from happy showing you and miss granger aiding a known criminal and attacking a school teacher. That is expulsion at the very least for both of you. Fourth year. In case you missed it, I was not the mastermind or even one of the powers behind the Tournament. I had no power to "nullify it or something." Your lessons with Severus were necessary. You needed to learn occlumency and little to none know it. True, Severus was a bit overzealous, but you were no better. Complaining about his teaching style instead of actually trying or getting some extra literature about the subject hardly endeared you to him. You are saying, I should have told you about the prophecy sooner? At the time, when Voldemort felt more at home in your head than his own? Is you actually believed that, you are an even bigger moron than I thought. And, though I hate repeating myself, you saw Voldemort rise again and kill mister Diggory. Did you start learning advanced material? Did you ask your teachers for extra lessons? Did you do anything, except snapping at me, Severus, your friends, and anybody else in vicinity? And as for my relationship with Gellert...For short – it is none of your business. I made a mistake. I paid for it. And no, we weren't lovers. What is it with people that they immediately assume that close friendship between males immediately means something more? What about your redheaded friend? I believe the goblet chose him as the one you would miss the most?

By now, Harry's face underwent a number of interesting color changes, resembling a certain Vernon Dursley. Albus also felt a bit guilty at unloading at the boy. An awkward silence descended and Albus sought something to break it.

-A lemon drop, Harry?


End file.
